


The Way I Do

by DetectiveRiley (RavenWhitecastle)



Series: The Sinner and the Saint [32]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Metaphors, Post Samaritan, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21554146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWhitecastle/pseuds/DetectiveRiley
Summary: They saw the way John and Harold looked at each other, especially when the other wasn’t looking. It was impossible to miss- head tilted, adoring eyes, a smile playing on their lips.
Relationships: Bear & Sameen Shaw, Harold Finch & Root | Samantha Groves, Harold Finch/John Reese, John Reese & Sameen Shaw, Root | Samantha Groves/Sameen Shaw
Series: The Sinner and the Saint [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/940422
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	The Way I Do

They saw the way John and Harold looked at each other, especially when the other wasn’t looking. It was impossible to miss- head tilted, adoring eyes, a smile playing on their lips. Shaw made fun of them endlessly, but Root found it endearing. “Oh, you guys,” she would sigh as she pat them on the head. It was their normal.

Shaw approached John one day while he was cleaning his gun. She stood by the bench for a few seconds until John acknowledged her presence.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Have you and Harold always been a thing?” she blurted.

John paused. “Not always. You mean before all of this?” He nodded his head at the surrounding subway station.

“Yeah.”

“No, we didn’t know each other back then. The Machine brought us together, and the rest is history.” John leaned back in his chair. “I wouldn’t be here without the Machine, and the work we do. But, sometimes I think that-”

“If you say anything about fate or destiny,” Shaw started, cutting him off as she rolled her eyes, “I’m going to hurl all over you precious SIG.”

John chuckled. “If you don’t want me to shoot you with it, then you won’t lose your lunch,” he teased.

Shaw smirked, and sat down next to him. “Fine.”

Reassembling the pieces of his SIG, John said, “But honestly, sometimes it feels that way.” He cleared his throat. “I meant it when I said I wouldn’t be here without the Machine or the numbers, or… or Harold.” John sighed and looked toward the subway car. “He saved me. And I’ll always love him for that.”

Harold passed by the subway doors, and that smile was playing on John’s lips again. After a long moment, John said, “I just hope that when he looks at me, he feels the way I do.”

There was a pause as John watched Harold. Then Shaw scoffed. John blinked and looked at her. “Please,” she said, “He looks at you the way the stars look at the sun.”

John felt something in his chest loosen. “Ha.”

“Aaand I’ve officially grossed myself out.” Shaw pushed herself up from her seat. “I’ve been spending too much time around Root. She’s all about that mushy metaphorical crap.” She patted John’s shoulder before wandering off to play with Bear.

John just sat there watching Harold fuss over the Machine. The longer he watched, the more he understood the metaphor.

~

Root studied Harold, rushing around his natural environment. He was worked up about the most recent bug. Root had been helping troubleshoot, but they’d hit a wall.

Harold growled and clenched his fist, like he wanted to bang it on the desk. “This is getting us nowhere,” he grumbled, sinking into his chair.

Root leaned forward in her seat. “Then take a break.”

Harold sighed. “Miss Groves, we don’t have any time to waste.”

“Talking about something else might help. You know what they say. You look too hard, you won’t see the forest for the trees.” Harold glanced at her. “Talk to me about John.”

Harold opened his mouth to protest, but Root shot him a look and he stopped. He conceded, “What about John?”

Root shrugged. “Anything. I mean, we both know what it’s like to love beautifully damaged criminals.” She smirked cunningly. “We know about those delightful dark pleasures.”

Harold flushed, and she chuckled before adding, “I want to know what comes after.”

“After.” Harold laughed bitterly. He put his index finger against his lip, thinking. “After the war.” Blanching, he thought back to how John had spoken about Samaritan, and their struggle to defeat it. “What happens after any war? One side wins. One army walks away.”

“C’mon, Harry,” Root purred, pushing her hair out of her face. “You know I’m a sucker for a happy ending.”

“Aren’t we all?” He adjusted his glasses. “The truth is, I don’t know where we’ll be at the end of it all.” He looked around the subway car, at the cords and cables and blinking lights. “But I can’t imagine doing anything without John.”

Root glanced out the window at Shaw playing with Bear. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Since we started- John and I, I mean- nothing else has really mattered,” he murmured, “We had the numbers, but when I think about the endgame, I’ve always only ever thought of him.” He smiled to himself. “So I guess my answer, Miss Groves, is that life comes after. A life together, with John.” He looked up at the darkened monitors, brow furrowed. “If we win, that is.” 

Root leaned forward to put a hand on Harold’s shoulder. “Of course we’re going to win, Harry,” she said, “You know why?” He looked up at her blankly. “Because we’ve got something worth fighting for.” 


End file.
